Out of the Smoke, Into the Flames
by SilverJem5
Summary: Nearly every time she saw him, it was like putting her hand in a jug of boiling water, before plunging it into icy cold water, and then repeating the cycle. It was almost painful, at times. OC characters, set in the Shadowhunter world.


**So, here I am, writing another story about Steff. What can I say? I just like roleplaying her. Anyway, so this story looks at her point of view and emotions for some of the more recent events that happened in roleplay, and some that didn't.**

 **My characters: Steff, Loki**

 **MortalShadowhunter's characters: Cole, Aaron (only mentioned briefly)**

 **Oh, and I give all credit to MortalShadowhunter for the amazing picture.**

 **Enjoy! :)**

* * *

 _ **~Out of the Smoke, Into the Flames~**_

Just when Steff thought she was in the clear, and her past wouldn't catch up with her, it turned out she was wrong. For her suffering wasn't yet over, and she was silly to ever think it could be.

After all, some people were just cursed in life, forced to deal with the misfortune thrown their way over and over again.

 _ **~"Things change. And friends leave. Life doesn't stop for anybody."~**_

Steff had had no idea what was awaiting her when she reached Cole's room that day.

Aaron had just been leaving the room when she'd run into him, and he'd told her that Cole was dead.

He'd hanged himself, were the words she'd heard. Aaron seemed awkward as he told her, apologetic, even. Leaning against the wall for support, she'd blinked back tears, feeling sick. The kind of sick where her stomach cramped and her heartbeat increased to an unbearable level.

 _He couldn't really be dead… could he_?

She just couldn't believe it. Cole had always seemed so in control, so confident, so self-assured. He always had a plan up his sleeve.

But maybe the stress had gotten to him, like Aaron had said. Maybe he'd just… snapped?

She couldn't help but feel like it was somehow her fault. She'd tried to be there for him, to help him, to be his friend. But it seemed she wasn't enough. Even she couldn't stop him from going over the edge. The thought made her feel helpless, and her heart filled with regret. If only she'd done more…

As the week dragged on afterwards, it seemed she was the only one who even cared that he was gone. Everyone else seemed almost happy about his death, and they expected her to just move on.

Like it was that easy.

Evande was the only other person who seemed to miss him. But she just couldn't break the news to him that Cole was dead. He was just too young and innocent. She'd prefer to lie and tell him that Cole was on a holiday, or that he'd moved. It would be less painful for both of them.

After all, avoiding thinking about things had always been her greatest ally.

 _"_ _ **To live without Hope is to Cease to live."~**_

Then, one night everything changed. He'd come to see her out of the blue and revealed to her that he was still alive, and in hiding at the Downworld Towns. She'd been shocked, relieved, happy and angry, all at the same time. Hugging him tightly, she'd then pulled back and slapped him, unable to help herself. The week she'd spent mourning him had been pure torment.

But she soon forgave him, she always did.

It had been dangerous for him to return to the Institute, foolish, even. But yet he'd done it anyway. It was so unlike him to do something for no reason like that.

And it gave her hope.

 _ **~"It's our choices… that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities."~**_

So Steff started wandering through the Downworld Towns every so often, looking for him, against his wishes. She'd been scared at first, jumping at the slightest movement, but she managed to push past it, ignoring it.

If she didn't give fear a name, surely it didn't exist?

Besides, for once she was actually doing something of her own volition. She hadn't had a choice in so long, that coming was almost freeing, in a sense.

She had to be strong to do what she wanted.

 **~"** _ **You don't get to choose if you get hurt in this world, but you do have some say in who hurts you."~**_

Cole was hot then cold then hot then cold again.

Nearly every time she saw him, it was like putting her hand in a jug of boiling water, before plunging it into icy cold water, and then repeating the cycle. It was almost painful, at times.

The hardest part was that he was so difficult to decipher. Like a book that she couldn't quite understand – perhaps one in a different language. She didn't know whether to believe what he said sometimes, as he kept his emotions so well hidden, and it took so much work to coax them to the surface. He said horrible things to her, and then kissed her later. He told her she shouldn't have come, but then never hurried her to leave.

He was… confusing to say the least.

 _ **~"Nothing gold can stay."~**_

The night Loki had died would haunt her thoughts forever.

Walking past a tavern in the Towns, she'd seen him stumble out, and had quickly slipped down the nearest alley. However, she'd been too late, and he'd spotted her, following.

That was when she'd realised it was a dead end.

As he'd approached her, all she could smell was the alcohol, the pungent smell reeking off his clothes and his breath. She had quickly backed away from him, and her breathing became shallow when her back hit the wall. All she could feel was the rough surface of the wall rubbing against her.

Her hand reached towards the dagger in her pocket, but she couldn't bring herself to take it out. He was her brother, after all. She didn't think she had the courage to use it against him, and maybe a small part of her was still the scared little child she'd been in the past.

His eyes flicked towards her hand, and guessing her thoughts, he laughed, leaning closer to her, and resting his hands on either side of the wall. She'd flinched as his breath hit her face.

"Wise choice. It's not like you'd be able to hurt me," he sneered, looking down at her.

When she didn't reply, he laughed again, his mouth settling into a self-satisfied smirk. "Tell me, sister, dear," he drawled, his words slightly slurred from the alcohol. "What are you doing here?"

She shook her head, looking away from him, not wanting to reveal anything to him.

"I asked you a question," he growled, raising his hand and hitting her cheek with the back of his palm. "A bartender told me they saw you here the other day with someone. Who was it?" he demanded.

"It was no one." She gasped, holding a hand to her stinging cheek and leaning her head forward slightly, so her hair covered her face. "Just some random person I met."

"I don't believe you," he said, narrowing his eyes, his hand closing around her upper arm, his fingernails digging in. "We're going to stay here until you tell me the truth."

"It is the truth," she protested quickly, and her eyes widened as he released her arm and his hand reached down towards her waist instead. She felt claustrophobic, like she couldn't breathe, and it felt so _wrong_.

That was when it dawned on her that she wasn't in the Institute anymore. He could do whatever he liked to her here, and no one would hear her screams or even see them.

Before he could say anything else more, she managed to duck under his free arm, tearing herself from his grip and running down the alley. She was lucky his reflexes were slower because he was drunk.

However, he managed to catch up to her, and as he reached out a hand to grab her arm, she turned and pushed him away, using all of her strength to do so. Looking unsteady, Loki took a step backwards and slipped on a small rock on the ground.

She watched in pure shock as he fell to the ground, and hit his head, hard. Her eyes flicked between her escape and him, since she didn't know if he was faking or not, and she didn't want to play into his hands. Seeing his hair suddenly slick with blood, she gasped, falling to her knees. Crawling over to him, she lifted his head, placing it on her lap.

He didn't seem to be breathing, and she held two fingers to his neck, trying to find a pulse. But there was… nothing.

She shook her head, her breathing shaky as she pressed the back of her hand to her mouth. "No, no, no, no, no, no…" she repeated under her breath, feeling sick. "He-…he can't be… I didn't…mean to…"

Placing his head back on the ground and backing away slowly, she glanced down at her hands, feeling sick.

They were covered in blood.

 _ **~"Memory… is the diary that we all carry about with us."~**_

A memory from when she was younger came back to her when she went to sleep that night.

 _Loki had come back to the Institute, late at night, already in a bad mood. When he'd found out she hadn't finished what he'd ordered her to do, his mood turned even fouler._

 _As a punishment, he'd ordered her to go in the broom closet and keep the door closed, and to stay in there, until he let her out. She'd done what he'd said, since she had no choice. It was cramped in there, and she only just managed to fit because she was small. In fact, she had to draw her knees to her chest, and wrap her arms around them be able to fit. It was impossibly dark with the door closed, she couldn't see a thing. He didn't even need to lock the door, for he knew she wouldn't be able to leave._

 _He'd laughed in amusement, as the hours dragged on, and she begged him to let her out._

" _You should apologise, sister, dear, or you'll be in there all night," he replied, taking a sick enjoyment out of her suffering._

 _ **"No matter how many times you say you're sorry, somebody is not going to hear you."~**_

"Loki… I'm sorry…" she whispered, her words disappearing in the wind.

 _ **"How do you get out of the labyrinth of suffering?"~**_

Afterwards, she didn't mourn him.

She only mourned what could have been.

Whenever her thoughts got away from her, she wondered if she was a bad person, because deep down, she knew she was secretly happy he was gone. What kind of sick person was relieved their own brother was dead? And it was her own fault, she couldn't deny that, as much as she tried to.

Thanks to Aaron, it was marked off as a stupid death – that Loki had been drunk and tripped, hitting his head. She was lucky to have gotten away with it. She knew she deserved far worse.

Her parents – if you could call them that – sent her an invitation to his funeral. However, she refused to go. She didn't want to cry over him anymore.

Instead she went over to the fireplace, and dropped the letter in the fire, watching expressionlessly as the flames devoured it.

 _ **"Insanity - a perfectly rational adjustment to an insane world."~**_

As time went on, Cole changed more and more every time she visited him.

At first it was little things, but then it became more noticeable. So much so that she couldn't ignore it anymore.

He'd hurry back to his hotel, closing the curtains when he got there and locking the door. He was always looking around cautiously and avoiding the busy areas. His normally cool, calm and collected self had seemingly vanished.

Now, he seemed troubled and paranoid, worried that something was out to get him. At first, she wasn't sure if he'd gotten mixed up in something bad, or if it was just the result of living in the Towns in hiding. As time went on, however, it became clearer. She didn't want to say anything though, because she wanted him to tell her when he was ready, and she didn't want to intrude.

However, she worried about him constantly, wishing she could do something to help, but she had no idea what to do. So she visited him and tried her best to keep him company.

After all, living in the Towns for so long was guaranteed to make anyone question their sanity.

 _ **~"We accept the love we think we deserve."~**_

"I… I love you, Cole."

Thewordshadjustslippedoutofhermouthandshehadn'tbeenabletocloseitquicklyenoughtostopthem.

She hadn't known what she'd been expecting, but it certainly hadn't been his utter confusion. He'd said he didn't understand her. That he wasn't the only one going crazy.

That's when she realised, in her embarrassment, how stupid she'd been to utter those words.

What did he know about love? She'd once told him he didn't know the meaning of the word. Maybe she'd been right. Even the idea of friendship was such a foreign concept, that she had to work so hard to get him to stop pushing her away.

Even if he did feel it, she knew he'd never say it. It wasn't like him to say something without reason, or just anything about his feelings, in general.

She, on the other hand, read about love and romance every day, so much so that she'd started to think that fairy tales were true. That she could actually be living in one herself. But she'd been so wrong. Fairy tales weren't for people like her. She had one event after the other sucking the life out of her, leaving her struggling to keep her head above the water.

Sometimes she even struggled to get out of bed in the morning.

The constant doubts and worries always tugged at her thoughts, but every time she managed to push them away. _Think positively_ was her mantra, and she focused on the way she wanted things to be, not on the way they were.

But something kept bringing her back to him. Despite everything, she wanted to be there for him. To help him through what he was going through. Even though he'd grow cold and distant every so often, and say she was 'stupid,' or that 'she had no common sense sometimes,' or that she was 'just a pawn.' The words buried their way under her skin, hurting her, and scratching her, leaving marks. But she told herself he didn't really mean it. That he was just trying to push her away, like always.

She was determined to be there for him, and she wouldn't be frightened so easily.

* * *

 **So the quotes I used, in order, were written by:**

 **Stephen Chbosky,** **Fyodor Dostoevsky, J. K. Rowling, John Green, Robert Frost, Oscar Wilde, Pete Rose, John Green, R. D. Laing and Stephen Chbosky.**


End file.
